Patience is a Virtue
by planetstarkid
Summary: The story of Limber Flamel and how she developed the hugest crush on a certain Weasley twin.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Cool air blew through the cracks in the window, reminding the witches and wizards of Godric Hollow just how chilly it was outside.

Ever since last year, the darkness everyone pretended to not see, has slowly been making its journey over the community. Friends and family were quick to disappear, dead or missing, and everyone was afraid of being the next one. So, silently, they pushed down their thoughts of fighting and instead just focused on what they could.

But, no matter how hard James Potter tried, he could not brush away the nervous tremor in his heart. It was like a hole had opened up in his chest and a foreboding thought of death stuck in his head.

Days earlier, his good friend, Dumbledore had stopped by and casted spells around their house; they had officially gone into hiding. But, the sense of worry had started much earlier. Dark whispers of a prophecy floated around and Lily was scared. The life of their newborn son was the only thing on her mind.

So, they went into hiding and only their closest friends knew. Unknown to them, they had been betrayed.

With a heavy heart, the father of the household made his way upstairs. His wife was sitting with Harry tucked into her arms, whispering to him stories of their past and adventures. The sight of his family warmed his heart and for a moment he forgot about the omen he felt.

With a flick of his wand, James sent little sprouts of colors towards his son, who giggled madly at the sight. Lily smiled up at him through marvelous green eyes and he returned the look though his own; words were not needed to express the endearing sight of their son laughing.

Closer, the new father stepped, raising his hand to stroke the fine, matching hairs of his son.

But, before they could touch, an explosion was heard, followed by a bang. The front door had been slammed open and, just as quickly, James understood the tremor he had.

"Lily," he whispered hurriedly, "Take Harry and run!" But, they both knew how futile the effort would be. The only way out of the house was through the front door and that exit was already blocked. Plus, everyone heard the rumors: once you were marked by the Dark Lord, death was undeniable.

With one last look at her husband, the boy who had fought tooth and nail for her affections, Lily ran to the nursery in the house with their son. Meanwhile, James made his way downstairs as quickly as he could, hoping that it wasn't what he thought and he could convince whoever had come to kill their son to leave.

But, when he rounded the corner to the front door, James quickly realized his mistake. The Dark Lord wouldn't send meaningless subjects to complete this job. A prophecy this big had to be handled directly and perfectly. And who better to do the job than himself.

James didn't even get a sound out before he was dead and his wife sobbed when she heard the killing curse. She closed her eyes tightly, the sight of the green light being too much for her too handle. They were all going to die.

Yet, that didn't stop Lily from trying. Despite the burden of her husband's death on her shoulders, the mother of Harry was no weak girl. Foolishly, she had no wand on her person, but she spent 11 years without one and she would be damned before she lay down and die.

After piling what she could in front of the door, Lily turned to her only family member left and tried to smile. Harry was so unaware of the danger, blinking up at his mother with her same eyes, and she tried desperately to reassure him. She knelt before him, running her hands over what part of him she could touch.

As she cried, her chest squeezing tightly at her new found grief, Lily whispered to her son.

"I love you so much Harry, so, _so much."_ A sob interrupted her but she pressed on. "You're going to be a great wizard and everyone is going to love you so much. You'll be better than your father and I ever were." She promised him, knowing everything she said was going to turn into lies within the next seconds.

All Harry could do was blink unknowingly back at his widowed mother.

With a silent spell, the door behind Lily burst open and the purest of evils stood beyond the threshold.

She quickly stood to her feet, all traces of crying gone from her eyes, despite the wet trails on her cheeks. Lily might have been raised a Muggle, but the powers of magic would not scare her today.

The first thing the monster did was offer her a chance. Move out of the way and she would have her life. But, the thought of her poor, dead husband invaded her mind. Never would James forgive her for letting the Dark Lord have Harry and the thought reinforced her determination.

The maternal instinct of a mother was the blame for Lily's death. Sure, she could have saved herself and lived on. But, no mother would willingly let their child take the fall before them. Not to mention the woman had a straight set of morals that clearly told her that dying for her son would always be worth it.

And only when Lily fall did Harry begin to cry. The young babe had seen everything as 'pretending'; he had watched his parents often use their magic and still thought it was amazing. But, the bright flash of green hurt his eyes and when he looked up beyond the wand of the Dark Lord, into his face, only then did Harry feel upset. His mother wasn't getting up and the ugly mask of the other person scared him.

With a shout, Voldemort threw the killing curse at the boy. It was an easy kill, a defenseless child who had no idea what was happening. Now the prophecy would never come true.

But, before the Dark Lord realized, the spell never hit its target. Instead, it was reflected by some unknown force and sent back at its creator. And Voldemort watched in horror as he was hit with his own spell. His biggest fear was coming true.

At the last second, his soul flared out. This once-man had split his soul seven times so he could never die and now his plan saved him.

Instead of dying, Voldemort's soul fled, running away from the death that was surely at his heels. But, one piece stayed behind, making a home within the only other person in the room.

And so, Harry, surrounded by death, cried as a harsh scar formed on his forehead; the shape of a lightning bolt.

This event marked the end of the First Wizarding War, but, unknowingly, was the beginning of the Second.


	2. Chapter 1: Lullaby

I

The quietness of spring embraced the world. It was snowing lightly, the ground sprinkled with white that melted quickly. It was a normal sight for the occupants of England, this season giving them snow, and they paid no mind to the weather.

The moon was hidden between dusky clouds and the wind was cool. But, inside a house, the fireplace was blazing, the heat traveling along. One would barely think it was cold outside with the warm air inside the home.

Downstairs, the sounds of laughter echoed loudly and the thuds of rough-housing, little boys were its partner. Distantly, the voice of a lecturing mother was heard too and she couldn't have sounded angrier.

Quietly, on the upper floor of the home, a brunette girl sat in front of her vanity. Limber was staring intently at herself, desperately willing for something to happen.

"Come on, come on" Low mutters whispered from her mouth. Limber knew she could do it, for she had done it plenty of times before. But, this was the only time when she sat down and actually tried.

Her eyes clenched in concentration, the tingling of magic starting in her stomach. In her head, she could see it; it was something instinctual. Her magic always came in the form of small sparks; her personality was just too spontaneous to be anything but. Yet, when she slowly started to gain control, the magic turned into coils racing up her arms and over her head.

Slowly, the girl peeked through blue, almond-shaped eyes. And no longer was she a brunette.

Limber's magic had done its job and her once tawny hair was now paler; a bright blonde. She gasped in wonder, a hand unconsciously reaching up to run over the new color.

Suddenly, her door slammed open, startling the girl out of her seat. Two, blonde whirls of shouting flew into her room, wrestling and giggling like mad.

"Talon! Tristan!" Limber screamed, her hair instantly turning back to its original color. "What are you doing?! Get out!"

Instead of obeying their older sister, the two boys continued their play fight, rolling around on the floor wildly. A pang of hatred flew through the girl's mind before she could stop it; her younger brothers were always acting like this. Not to mention she had been in the middle of something important.

"Mum!" She screamed, desperate for them to get out. Her room was her own space and in no circumstances, would she ever invite these little, _devils _into it. It had been three, long years since she had gotten her own room and she could barely remember what it had been like sharing with another person. She was not excited about her younger siblings intruding on her space.

When her tired mom finally reached the top of the stairs, Limber had already thrown herself into the battle, her young mind deciding force was necessary. If she had been a little bit older, she might have waited patiently. But, patience wasn't a common trait in ten year old girls.

So, instead of walking in on two, very-in-trouble, boys, now, she walked onto her eldest child prying two three-year old boys apart.

"Limber!" The mother of four exclaimed upon seeing blonde hair being tugged. Merlin, was her daughter going mad! To go out of her way to hurt her little brothers and make them cry. "Let go of them!" Prisca marched into the room, ready to separate her kids.

But, unlike the rest of the Flamel children, Limber barely listened to her mother, and so with great reluctance, she slowly let the boys go, giving their hair one last tug in malice. Then, she stood back with her arms crossed over her chest and gave her mom the same angry look that her father did; Limber took a lot after her favorite parent.

Talon and Tristan, the two trouble-makers, rushed to their mom's safety with tears and snot on their faces. For a second, Limber felt bad about pulling on their hairs, they were only kids, but she mentally shook her head; they deserved it.

Prisca picked up Talon and ran her hands soothingly over his head. Tristan's face was tucked into her legs and hidden from the world. It never ceased to amaze her how quickly toddlers change moods.

"I will be back later." Sending a very pointed look to her daughter Prisca picked up her other son and left the room.

And of course she didn't close the door. Angrily, Limber marched over and slammed it shut before going back to her seat at the vanity. For a moment, she scowled at herself. If her father was here, none of this would have happened. He was so much better at controlling the boys then her mother was.

With a sigh, Limber banished these thoughts from her head and tried to relax her face. Now she felt the beginnings of grief in her stomach; her brothers were too young and stupid to understand that what they did annoyed her. And _maybe _she shouldn't have pulled on their hair.

"I hate boys," Limber grumbled to herself. She noticed that guys have a way of taking things too far, her father included, and never realized when stop really meant 'stop'!

Yet, her younger sister was so different from them all. Willow was silent, understanding, and she never got in Limber's way. Limber really liked how well their names matched too; they were both unique unlike Tristan and Talon. She was actually friends with her sister, rather than just being family.

Of course, Limber knew how easy it was for her sister and her to relate, being only four years apart. But, what was she supposed to find in common with a three year old? She shook her head at the thought.

Deciding on a new topic of thought, Limber let her early happiness return. Before she was rudely interrupted, she had managed to change her hair color. And such was not an easy feat.

Even though she was born a Metamorphmagus, it was hard to learn how to control her ability as there was no one else in her family to teach her. Changing her hair color was as quick as snapping one's finger if she had the right emotions to back it up, but changing freely was another thing. She hoped one day she would be good enough to change her facial features at will; that was such a useful skill.

A soft knock was heard before her door opened up. The boys had tired themselves out, and her mom had put them to bed. And of course, Willow always managed to get herself to sleep at a reasonable time. Now, her mother had returned to talk to her and Limber sighed as she turned around to face her.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to hurt them." Limber confessed softly. Yelling at her brothers was one thing; she was the oldest and clearly had to teach them what was right. But, never has she ever raised her voice to her parents, especially not her mom; unless she was looking for a good smacking that day.

"Lim," Her mom said, coming in to sit on her bed. "You can't be so rough with them, they're only kids."

Her daughter pouted her lips in protest, the unsaid 'I'm a kid too' being obvious. Prisca smiled gently and opened her arms up for Limber. Instantly, the young girl crawled into her mother's lap and hugged her.

Despite her complaints, Limber loved her mother. Prisca Black was just as beautiful as her name sounded, with the grey eyes famous to the Black family and dark, chocolate hair that matched her daughters'. She was kind and gentle, just as a mother should be, with the right advice always at her disposal. Limber considered her mother her idol, everything she wanted to be when she grew up.

"When is Daddy coming home?" The girl asked, looking up at her mom with sadness in her eyes.

Nicolas Flamel worked for The Ministry of Magic, and even though Limber didn't know what he did, she knew that his job made his go away for long periods of time. She missed her father terribly.

Prisca sighed, she also missed him, "He didn't say." When she noticed the girl's stare, she offered Limber another smile. "But, he can't stay away forever, can he? I think Daddy would hate it if he missed you getting your letter."

Limber's frown quickly turned into a grin. In just a month's time, she would finally be turning eleven; a day every magic kid waited for. And then she would be going to Hogwarts to learn magic. It was a very exciting thought, a new adventure just on the horizon, and she found that going to sleep got harder and harder as time went on.

"Mum, will you tell me a story about Hogwarts?" Limber blushed as she asked the question. It was such an immature thing to want a bedtime story, but she wanted to hear all about the school she would be attending.

Of course, Prisca couldn't say no to such a simple request.

So, after Limber had brushed her teeth and gotten changed, she waited for her mom to come back after checking on the others. And when she came back, Limber was tucked snuggly into her bed.

"Well, let's see," Her mom began, looking up in thought. "Which one would you like to hear tonight?"

"The one about you and Daddy!" Limber had always loved hearing about how her parents met. It was much better than all the other boring stories out of children books; her parents are actually real.

Prisca laughed at her daughter's enthusiasm; she could tell this was Limber's favorite.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the mother started her story.

"Well, it was the first day of Hogwarts, and I had met your dad on the train. 'Thought he was a downright jerk, at first…He had this air about him, like he thought he was better than you."

They both laughed softly at the thought; Nicolas Flamel had this air of confidence around him and Limber was reminded, quite often, how Flamel's 'had their prides'. She guessed her dad didn't know how bad off he was until he met her mom; at least, that's what Limber thought. All boys were awful until they got married and she had the uncles to prove it.

As the tale continued, Limber snuggled deeper into her bed and stared up at her mom. The soothing sound of her mom's voice was putting Limber to sleep, but she tried desperately to listen. She picked out any details she could that told her anything about the school for witches and wizards.

But, slowly her eyes drifted shut and she fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 2: End of Time

II

In the past month, the weather had changed dramatically. Instead of the common snowfall of Spring, now the occupants of Otter St. Catchpole were subjected to long rainstorms. Every day was different; thunderstorms were the usual, but the next day might just be a light shower. Not that the people weren't used to this odd behavior.

Today happened to be one of the lighter days, Limber could barely hear the sound of the rain landing on the roof. The sky was its usual dreary self, the clouds looking like never-ending patches of grey, and the ground was covered in mud, thanks to all the water it absorbed.

Despite the weather, Limber was determined to have a good day.

It was still the early morning when she woke up. Even though the rest of world couldn't care for today, Limber felt the effects of her birthday as soon as she opened her eyes. The familiar warmth of magic traveled through her and, when she jumped up out of bed, it was pale, blonde locks that got in her way. Her happiness could literally be seen.

Running as quickly as she could, she made her way down the steps, taking two at a time.

Every birthday, without fail, Nicolas Flamel always made sure his daughter got her present on time. Whether he delivered it himself or by owl, Limber always got something. This year she hoped desperately that it was the former.

So, when Limber's feet hit the last step, she could already feel the disappointment. Her father was nowhere in sight and she could already feel the blonde turn back into brown. There was no use of being happy when she only had one parent to celebrate with. Plus, she was really looking forward to showing her dad her new trick.

Suddenly a tap interrupted Limber, the bitterness that was forming in her chest forgotten for a moment. Walking through the living room, she walked over to the window with the owl perched on the other side. Making sure to open it gently, she let the little critter inside. She guessed she would have to make-do with another owl this year.

"Hello, sweetie." She sadly murmured under her breath. She realized that the owls were much for friendly with you if you greeted them. And she always gave an extra treat or two when they arrived.

The owl blinked up at her, a letter clenched in one of its claws. Limber could tell it was enchanted right away; there's no way parchment or ink would last long in this weather.

But, she couldn't help but be even more disappointed. Wasn't it enough that he couldn't even make the trip home? Where was her real present? Last year, an owl had flown in with a big, box in its grasp and this letter seemed to be the only thing it had. Limber tried to smile though; maybe this letter was to let her know her present was too big to send via owl. Now, that was a thought that Limber liked.

Ripping through the seal, Limber briskly scanned the content of the parchment. And just as fast, all traces of disappointment disappeared from her mind. This surely was her best present yet! With a scream, she began to bounce up and down.

Prisca, who was in the next room, quickly rushed in. Even though she was awake, the mother thought it best that Limber always opened her father's gift alone. Prisca could tell she was upset by her father's absence and didn't want to pressure the girl to act happy within her presence.

"Limber!" Her mother scolded, "Keep your voice down, your siblings are sleeping."

When Limber saw her mom, she couldn't stop the wide smile that broke out on her face and she quickly rushed to give her a hug. A squeal was all she managed before she buried her face in her mom's chest.

Prisca stared down at her eldest curiously; usually Limber wasn't so happy, even when she got a present.

"What are you screaming about?" Her mom asked.

Limber grinned up at her, "Its mine, Mum! The owl is mine!" She quickly detached herself and went to _her owl, _who looked quiet startled by all the noise.

Prisca watched the interaction with a smile, but inside she grew worried. Surely, an owl was something you bought at Diagon Alley when you went school shopping. Would Nic be missing such an important day? The mother hoped for her daughter's sake that her thoughts were wrong.

"I think I'll name him Rees, after the Muggle candy." Limber's voice broke through her mom's thoughts and Prisca couldn't help but laugh; her daughter did lover her Reese's Cups. The tawny owl peered up at her curiously.

"Let's go get him set up, and then you can eat your birthday breakfast."

Limber held her arm out for the tawny owl, who gently took up the offered spot, before closing the window. She was quiet happy with her gift and now she was even more expectant for next year's gift. Maybe her dad would bring her present himself next time! With another grin, Limber realized that that couldn't happen because next year her birthday would be spent at Hogwarts. She had a nice bounce in her step as she made her way after her mom.

After they had settled Rees with the family's owl, Limber and Prisca sat down for a special 'mother-daughter' breakfast. There were no rude interruptions from her brothers, no spills or messes to clean up, and Limber got to have as many pieces of bacon as she wanted with her pancakes. Of course, she didn't take too many pieces; she was _mature _enough to hold back.

Prisca giggled at her daughter's attitude, "How's it feel to be eleven, Lim?"

Limber grinned at the thought; she was finally old enough. Years of waiting were finally coming to an end and, coming September, she would be boarding the Hogwarts Express with the rest of her peers. The very thought of going to school made Limber's hair turn blonde again, which caused her mom to laugh.

"It feels great!" She confessed, a bit loudly. "I can't believe I'll be going to Hogwarts in…" Limber counted on her fingers, "In five months! And I'll finally get a wand!" Again, a squeal burst through her mature façade. Getting a wand was every witch's finest day. It was like finding the missing piece to an equation and finally getting the answer you had been searching so hard for. Plus, what was the point of having magic if you couldn't have a wand to use it? Limber shook her head mentally at the mention, getting sorted into one of the four houses was surely a great experience. Limber had heard many times from her mom about how the Sorting Hat sometimes talks to you before it makes it decision. She wondered what the famous accessory would say to her.

"Oh, you must be very excited then. I remember when I got my wand." Prisca's eyes got a bit dazed as she recalled the memory. "It's really as special as they make it seem."

"Has anyone ever gotten the wrong wand before?" Limber asked, suddenly curious. What if she was given a bad wand and it ended up never working. She would definitely be the joke of the school.

"Merlin no, dear! Mr. Ollivander is brilliant at his job. He's helped hundreds and hundreds of kids find their perfect match." Limber's posture relaxed quite a bit at Prisca's reassurance. "Why, when I went to get my wand, Mr. Ollivander nearly spent an hour on me just to find the right one."

Limber laughed, "An hour? How long did it take daddy?"

Her mother paused in thought for a moment. "I don't know exactly, but I can tell you that nearly everyone took less time than I did."

"Oh," Limber said sadly. She wished her dad was around more to tell her about his experiences.

Prisca smiled sadly when she noticed Limber's mood shift. "How about you go get cleaned up while I wake up your brothers? There's no doubt in my mind that your sister is patiently waiting upstairs with a book in her lap." They both chuckled at the thought; Willow's first word could have been book for all the time she spent with one in her hands.

Waving her wand, Prisca cleared the table and made her way upstairs, stopping to leave a kiss on her daughter's head. "Happy birthday, dear."

Limber sat in the chair for another moment before leaving the room.

Their house had a very open floor plan; the kitchen and living room were only separate by a counter. The stairs touched down in the middle of the room and the door was against the farthest wall. Upstairs, there was a small den before leading into the hallway of their bedrooms. And of course, the house had been enchanted to be a lot bigger on the side. Yet, Limber suddenly felt cramped in her own house.

Gleeful at new thought, Limber ran to the stairs and shouted up at her mom. "Mum! Can we go to the Weasley's?"

Prisca's head popped around the corner and she pretended to think about it. The Weasley's were about the only other family in Otter St. Catchpole that Limber had any contact with and she had already asked Molly if her daughter could visit. But, of course, Limber didn't know that.

"I guess so, dear." Limber cheered, "Make sure you turn your hair back before we go first. Talon and Tristan still get confused."

Limber bristled at the thought; couldn't she go somewhere without her little brothers tagging along? Even Ron, who was a stupid boy himself, thought the twins were too much! And she had heard all about his twin brothers, yet they still sounded better than her's!

The mother of four pretended not to see the displeasure written so clearly on Limber's face.


End file.
